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My Overthinking

Philly Area mom, Life forever changed by adoption

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Healing Beneath the Surface

10.18.11

18 months home. Check-up day. 
This morning, I raced to get the kids off to their schools and then get on over to CHOP’s cardiologist for Lydia’s appointment. I wasn’t worried about the appointment. A check up every 6 months. Just got to do it.
A VSD put her in the special needs program. We were prepared for heart surgery. We were relieved to learn the week we got home that surgery would likely never be needed. Our cardiologist explained that it would only be necessary if the valve started to pull into the little hole between the walls of the bottom two chambers of her heart.
“Show him your heart, Lydia.” She pointed to her chest and said, all drawn out as she does, “Right here.” He listened. He listened some more. She got the EKG with stickers that tickled. Then, we went into the little room fitted with a big ole bed for her echo. 
The tech pulled up her echo from 18 months ago. I could watch it on the computer screen and hear it–her heart sounded like a little bird to me, racing. 
“Was she really upset when we did this before?” she asked.
“What do you mean?” 
“It’s just that her heart was a bit crazy there. Looks like she was really worked up.” 
She wasn’t.
18 months ago, we were in that same room with the same technician even. It was just me and Lydia. I sat there with her and rubbed her legs during that echo all while she lay perfectly still, just looking at me, not making a peep. I remember at one point, I even got her to fall asleep. 
But, she wasn’t at peace. For a year, she never left one building. One day, one of the nannies there dressed her up nicely in new clothes, put her in a car for perhaps the 2nd time in her life, drove 2 1/2 hours, brought her into an office building and handed her to a white lady with a big nose who was crying and laughing at the same time who then passed her back and forth to a big white guy with red hair. We took her to our hotel room, then an airplane, then another hotel room, all while going to restaurants and walking around crowded streets. Then, after a very long plane ride, we arrived somewhere entirely new–new sounds, new smells, new people, new children wanting to touch her and hug her. 
As calm as she seemed during that echo 18 months ago, the poor baby was upset. And, we’ve got a video record of her heart to prove it. 
But, today, was different. She happily laid on the bed and talked to me about Dora who they had playing on a screen for her to pass the time. I watched the screen and the images of her heart, amazed at the clarity of the picture and how we were able to painlessly look right into our little one’s chest. Amazing.
And, then, she said it. The tech smiled at me and said it.
“Have you been praying?” 
Her heart is healed. The hole is gone. Her heart is whole. Totally whole.
The cardiologist, an adoptive dad of two himself, smiled and told us he doesn’t want to see us ever again. 
Amazing. 
All 23 lbs of her.

Sunday Snapshot

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Posted by Kelly the Overthinker
Filed Under: Lydia, Sunday Snapshot

Spitting and Hitting and All That Pretty Stuff

10.13.11

I’m not thinking this picture will win her cutest kid of the year.

Honestly, I haven’t felt like voting for her lately.

She’s been giving us the 2-year-old treatment lately complete with spitting and hitting every one of us.

Nothing cute about that.

And, so, we’ve had to start figuring out how to discipline her. You’d think parents of 4 children would know what they are doing by the time #4 needs correction. But, I am figuring this all out for the first time.

Time-outs has always been my method of choice with the other 3–isolate the child for a period of time so he/she can take a breather (as can I) and then we can talk about his/her choice and what a better choice may look like and walk through the apology and forgiveness process.

But, Lydia was adopted. And, before she was adopted, she was in an institution for a year with rotating nannies and no one caregiver that belonged to her who she could bond with. And, time-outs for a child with a traumatic infancy like Lydia’s who is learning or has just learned to connect can feel that I am, in effect, isolating her from my love not merely my physical presence. And, I certainly do not want to do that to her.

After all, I’m not about behavior modification ultimately. I am into discipling not disciplining my child, walking along with her to help her be the person God wants her to be. Part of that discipling involves correction–but the goal is not to modify behavior but help change a heart.

So, we’ve been trying a form of “time-ins” though we’re still calling it a “time-out.” We pull out a stool for her in the same place we are and ask her to stay on it. We stay within her view the whole time, so she has to take a break from the situation but not from us. Even as she cries, we tell her we will talk to her as soon as she is ready. Then, we do our best to talk her through what she did wrong and how she cannot hit or spit.

Sounds all good, right? She calms down, nods her head, gives us a hug, hugs whoever she decided to hit or spit on this time.

Then we ask, “Are you going to spit at her again?”

And, she answers, “Yes.”

{smile}

I think I need a time-out.

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Posted by Kelly the Overthinker
Filed Under: adoption, Lydia

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